


"~candy is sweet, but you taste sweeter~..."

by Mochi_MinMin



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Highschool Student Ciel Phantomhive, M/M, Male Pronouns for Grell Sutcliff because that's what Ciel and Sebastian call her, SebaCiel - Freeform, Teacher Sebastian Michaelis, ciel is 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mochi_MinMin/pseuds/Mochi_MinMin
Summary: In which, our favorite pint-sized, azure-eyed bluenette’s ravenous sweet tooth makes him 15 minutes late to class, and his devilishly handsome teacher decides a severe ~punishment~ is in order.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Kudos: 57





	1. Late

_ Come onnn… how much longer is this going to take?!  _ Ciel thought frantically. He was already cutting it close. He hadn’t meant to be so long at the sweets shop, but he had seen them advertising 50% off All Hallow’s Eve candy, and he had just gotten paid the day before. It was meant to just be a quick in-and-out affair, but once he had set eyes upon all the sour gummies, sugar-coated spice drops, colorful jelly beans, caramel popcorn, cat-shaped cookies, toffees, jellies, and luscious chocolates, he forgot all about his last lesson of the day. It was only after he had dumped all his treasure on the register’s conveyor belt that he finally checked his watch, and just about leapt out of his skin. He had five minutes to get to class. Ordinarily, he would have thought nothing of it and sauntered in just as the bell rang. But he had walked from school to the sweets shop, which was 10 minutes away.

The cashier rang up his sweets. “Your total is £7.79…”

Ciel hurriedly thrust a £5 note and three £1 coins at the cashier and lit out of the little shoppe as fast as his little legs could carry him, his sweets-bag banging along beside him. On a good day with light traffic, he could make it to school from the shoppe in about seven minutes, if he ran.

Unfortunately for him, it was a bad traffic day. 

It was the Friday before Remembrance Sunday weekend, which meant the road was packed with everyone and their aunt going on a short holiday. There were two intersections between him and school. If the gods were on his side, he would reach both lights just as they had their pedestrian lights on and he could get to class only a few minutes late. If the gods decided they were bored and hadn’t seen some action in a while, they’d make him wait good and long for those bloody lights to turn from red to green, chuckling to themselves all the while. Lord, would sparks fly after class if that happened. 

Indeed, when he reached the first light, it turned… from green to red. Ciel could do nothing but watch the autos whiz past, their slipstreams ruffling his smooth hair with a stiff breeze, chilling him through his few layers of clothes. He kept staring at his watch, willing the little hands to stop moving every time he did, but, of course, they refused and resolutely continued their forward movement around their numbered path. He was six minutes late.

Finally the light changed, and he sprinted across the intersection and down the next block. After almost being hit by a cyclist and almost being sent flying by a hose suddenly pulled tight across the sidewalk, he reached the second intersection. The traffic light of which, of course, had also just turned red. He could practically  _ hear _ the gods cackling at his misfortune. He wanted to burst into tears, he was so upset. He usually tried to be a few minutes early to his last class because he had a massive crush on his teacher, and did everything within his power to impress him (of course, sometimes he couldn’t help but be late, but he tried, he really did).

His teacher was quite the looker; literally tall, dark, and devilishly handsome. His silky raven bangs framed his angled jawline and brushed his high, perfect cheekbones. His narrow, pointed nose gave him a slightly impish appearance; he had full, blush-colored lips that were often quirked in an imperious smirk. But the most mesmerizing thing about this man was his eyes: two bright amaranthine orbs that seemed to sort of… glow, especially when the lights were turned off for a movie. Those eyes were almost bewitching; they seemed to draw you in, welcoming you to view the soul behind them, but at the same time, they would bar you entrance before you saw too much. Lord, he was sexy.

He was lithe but strong; what can one expect from a former dancer? He was not only a Latin teacher, but he also taught a ballroom dancing club that anyone could drop in on after school on Wednesdays. He had smooth, porcelain skin, reminiscent of a doll; however, he had just enough color in his cheeks to show you he was very much alive… Yes, he was certainly extremely attractive; it was not rare to see a group of girls hovering around him like they were the planets and he was their Sun, bringing warmth and light into their silly little lives. The teacher didn’t seem to mind them, and often asked them to do little tasks for him because he knew how much they sought his attention, and he thanked them kindly every time, gifting them his signature close-eyed smile. There was even a certain redheaded teacher that made no effort to disguise his blatant lust for “Bassy”, as he affectionately called him. It was not uncommon to see the man waltz uninvited into a class already in session; he would seat himself provocatively on the edge of the raven-haired teacher’s desk, twirling a lock of his red mane between his fingers, all the while gazing at the raven-haired man with his piercing green eyes. Much to everyone’s amusement, the raven always refused the redhead with as much grace as he could muster, given the circumstances.

Ciel rather resented his female classmates because of how easily they could obtain that smile; if  _ he _ did anything like that, the school would be all a-flutter with gossip about the gay boy in love with his teacher. Well, up until  _ this _ teacher began teaching at his school, he had thought he liked girls, although he had to admit that the things he felt about the bubbly pig-tailed blonde were nothing compared to what he felt for his teacher. He knew he certainly wasn’t in love with the man, but it wasn’t merely a crush either… it was lust. He often found himself wishing he could see more of the smooth, leanly muscular chest than what was visible above the collar of his teacher’s sable shirt. Oh, the things he imagined those strong but delicate hands doing to him!

As Ciel waited for the light to turn, he hardly dared to imagine how his beloved teacher would react when he found out Ciel had been late to class because he was buying treats for himself. He thought briefly of lying to him, saying he’d been lying down in the nurse’s office, but he respected him too much to entertain that thought for long. He had never seen his teacher well and truly angry with anyone, and he hoped to keep it that way. He had a feeling he was one of those teachers that was usually in good spirits, but once they got mad, they got  _ mad _ . He wondered what punishment he would receive. The thought made him shiver, though not in fear… He bit his lip hard, trying to ignore the little prickle of heat that sparked in his abdomen at the word ‘punishment’.

Ciel, as he often did when he was rather taken with someone, would let his mind wander and create vivid naughty fantasies about the object of his affection. In this instance, it was a certain sexy Latin teacher. On more than one occasion, Ciel’s mind had wandered in the middle of a lecture, leaving him red and scrambling for an excuse when he was asked why he wasn’t paying attention. He  _ was _ paying attention in his own way, just to the teacher rather than what he was teaching. Who could blame him? Wouldn’t you rather daydream about your fancy than study Latin verb declensions?

By the time Ciel had imagined nearly every worst possible scenario, the light had switched and he bolted across the intersection. He chanced a glance at his watch, nearly fainting at what he saw. The little hand pointed just above the 3, the big hand just below the 8: 2:37. Class started at 2:30. By the time he’d reach his locker and swap his sweets for his books, he’d be fifteen minutes late. He thought about skipping class entirely, just to avoid his teacher’s wrath. But he knew it would only be delayed, and the school would probably call his aunt about his “unexcused absence”, and sparks would  _ really _ fly then.

He burst through the school doors, chest heaving as he pounded down the empty hallways. He skidded to a stop in front of his locker and banged it open, swapping his treats for his books. Though he really had no time at all, he still took a minute to study his reflection in his little locker mirror, and wiped the sweat off his face. He ran a hand through his normally unruffled slate locks, attempting to smooth their wind-blown appearance. He hastily adjusted the hem of his oversized cobalt pullover and pulled his tight black skinny jeans higher. By now, his racing pulse had slowed down fractionally, and he took a swig of water from his canteen, almost hoping it was alcohol instead. He licked his lips and gulped, crossing himself as he prayed to the gods to let his teacher go easy on him. He closed his locker quietly and lightly treaded down the hallway, every step bringing him closer to whatever dreadful sentence surely awaited him.


	2. Reverie

Sebastian Michaelis didn’t think much of it when one of his pupils didn’t make it to class by the time the bell had rang. He knew the boy liked to cut it close and as a result, was occasionally a minute or so late to class. Every time, Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the boy mock-disapprovingly for a moment, and every time he blushed slightly and murmured an apology. Sebastian thought it was kind of cute… however, as he was a teacher, and the boy, though 18, one of his students, any relationship that went beyond teacher-student friendliness was strictly prohibited. 

As he was a fairly relaxed teacher and a fairly relaxed person in general, he had a 3-minute grace period after the bell rang to let any who might be a few minutes late arrive to class without getting a tardy slip. Many students had found the grace period to be helpful, particularly Ciel. They were careful not to make it a habit, though, lest the grace period be revoked.

When the clock’s minute hand reached 2:33, Sebastian was slightly concerned because he hadn’t received any note from the front desk notifying him of the absence of his student. He had no choice but to begin class. He quickly glanced around the classroom to make sure everyone else was there (small class sizes make that easy) and then asked the classroom in general, “Does anyone know where Ciel is?” Most just exchanged blank glances with each other, but one of Ciel’s friends, a tomboyish freckled girl with short brown hair, spoke up.

“Y’know… I think he said something about needing to get something before the end of the day… he wasn’t very specific, sorry.”

Hmmm… “Okay, thank you.” Sebastian decided he’d just have to wait and see what happened. Meanwhile, he had a lesson to teach.

As he looked out into the small group of faces, he recognized the usual mix of boredom and tiredness, of course, and a few cheerful ones (whether that was for his class or the long weekend he could guess). It  _ was _ Friday after all, and everyone, especially the teachers, was looking forward to getting a short break from each other.

The clock’s hands determinedly crept forward, bit by bit, as Sebastian was telling the class about Roman myths involving Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto. He was halfway through his lecture, telling them about how the Titans were defeated and the universe was divided between the three brothers, when the door swung open and in shuffled Ciel.

Everyone turned to stare at him for a moment, taking in his slightly windblown appearance and cold-reddened cheeks. Sebastian raised an exasperated eyebrow at the boy, watching his cheeks redden (adorably) from embarrassment, and continued his lesson. Sebastian would deal with him later.

After he was finished teaching the lesson, he turned his students loose to work on their Latin translations and vocabulary words, and also their Latin translations of a short Roman myth of their choice.

With that, he quietly retreated to his desk to work on grading papers. Unfortunately, he didn’t get very far before he found his attention drawn to one student in particular. He inconspicuously observed Ciel for a few moments from behind the screen of his laptop. Whenever the boy would inevitably look across at him (for he was seated in the back of the room, as per usual), Sebastian would pretend to be focused on his grading or something on his computer screen. But as soon as the boy turned back to his work, dark ruby eyes once again studied him.

Sebastian had to admit he thought the boy rather attractive for one who was barely a man yet. Dark grey-blue locks framed his heart-shaped face, lightly brushing the edge of his smooth jawline. His deep, lapis blue eyes were framed by long lashes. Sebastian thought he looked quite handsome (and maybe even… sexy?) in the outfit he was wearing that day; the oversized azure pullover looked marvelous against his flawless, milk-white skin. And it did not escape Sebastian’s notice how the boy’s black skinny jeans hugged his gently curved frame. His black combat boots added about 3 centimeters to his petite figure, which still made him about 39 centimeters shorter than Sebastian.

He smiled softly to himself, breaking out of his reverie; it wouldn’t do to get mixed up with whatever these “feelings” were, if they could be considered feelings at all. He assured himself he was merely noticing what anyone with eyes would… But would they, too, also be so unable to pull their gaze from the boy’s lean figure?

\-------------------------------------

The remainder of class passed uneventfully save for one instance where Ciel glanced at Sebastian, who was already looking at him. Ciel’s eyes widened slightly just as Sebastian’s narrowed. The familiar blush spread across Ciel’s cheeks and he whipped his head back down to his work.

He didn’t look at Sebastian again the rest of the period.

Sebastian smiled internally; it was amusing to see the effect he had on the young man. None of his other students ever reacted like that; of course they would glance away as quickly as possible, but they never blushed like they had been caught doing something improper. He had caught Ciel many a time obviously daydreaming in class, and every time he was simultaneously amused and annoyed that the boy wasn’t paying attention; was he not engaging enough? Ciel was one of the top students in the class, so that couldn’t be it. And whenever Sebastian would ask him a question or something while he was daydreaming, he would almost instantly develop that familiar blush, as though he had been caught with his hand between his thighs rather than his head among the clouds.

Sebastian wondered, from time to time, what was going on inside that pretty little head of his… What could possibly be more entertaining than Latin? Sebastian often smirked to himself because, of course, there were many other things young people would rather be focusing on than Latin. But he highly doubted the youth would turn so red if he was thinking about food or video-gaming rather than whatever he was daydreaming about.

Indeed, he would deal with Ciel later…


	3. Punishment

When Ciel opened the door and it swung forward on silent hinges, he thought it would have been more fitting for an unsettling creak with an accompanying lightning strike and thunderclap to occur. It certainly would have prepared him for the entire class to turn _en masse_ and goggle at him as though he had just pissed on the floor instead of arriving 15 minutes late to class. Immediately, that damned blush crept up his neck as one gaze in particular just about froze him to the spot.

 _You better have a good excuse, young man,_ Mr. Michaelis’ burning scarlet gaze seemed to say. Mercifully, Mr. Michaelis looked away first, allowing Ciel to unfreeze from his spot and hurriedly shuffle to the back of the room.

 _Gods, I’m bloody_ in _for it_ , he thought to himself. _Maybe I can bolt out the door with everyone else and he won’t have time to stop me, and then I can disappear to my car and zip home. Yes, I’ll do that._ Satisfied with his little plan, Ciel tried to take notes the best he could, given that he had missed about half the lecture.

Despite the fact that he despised being on the receiving end of that scorching stare, he couldn’t help glancing at Mr. Michaelis once in awhile… or maybe any time he thought Mr. Michaelis wouldn’t catch him gaping at him like a lovestruck fool, which he definitely was. He thought he saw Mr. Michaelis staring at him too, out of the corner of his eye.

 _He’s probably thinking up some terrible punishment for me… hmm… ~punishment~…_ As Ciel’s vivid imagination once again took over, he found it increasingly harder to focus on his work. He barely registered that he wasn’t working on his translation of “Hades and Persephone” because of how enraptured he was by his daydream. That’s why it took him a few minutes to realize that he had once again glanced over at Mr. Michaelis and this time, Mr. Michaelis was already looking at him and studying him with narrowed eyes. Ciel’s eyes widened in embarrassment and he whipped his head back down to his translation, face burning. He didn’t look at Mr. Michaelis again for the rest of the class.

At long last, the bell rang, its grating shrill accompanied by the scraping of chairs and shuffling of feet and instant chatter. Kids and teachers alike heaved a sigh of relief at having made it through the week with minimal tears. Sebastian wished all of his students a good weekend, keeping a close eye on Ciel as the boy practically shoved everything into his bag and then bolted to get out the door with his friends.

Just as Ciel was about to step out the door, Sebastian called to him. “Phantomhive, I’d like you to stay back.” Sebastian didn’t miss how Ciel’s friends looked at him teasingly or how Ciel stopped in his tracks at the very sound of his voice.

Ciel slowly turned around. “Y-yes?”

Instead of answering him directly, Sebastian ordered, “Shut the door.” As it fell shut with a loud _click!_ , he told Ciel to come to his desk. He smirked inwardly as the boy hesitantly approached him. Sebastian fixed Ciel with his carmine gaze. “You better have a good reason for being fifteen minutes late to class.”

Ciel fidgeted where he stood; he couldn’t meet Sebastian’s eyes as he mumbled an answer.

“What was that, Phantomhive?”

“I said… iwenttothecandyshoppetoget50%offHalloweencandy.”

“Can you repeat that louder?”

Ciel sighed. “I said… I went to the candy shoppe to get 50% off Halloween candy.”

Internally, Sebastian was laughing, but his expression betrayed none of this. “You do realize that’s no excuse for missing half of class, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I ought to send you to detention for this.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fortunately for you, I am graciously deciding not to.”

“Oh, thank you!” Ciel brightened.

“However. I ought to _punish_ you for this, don’t you agree?” Sebastian did not miss how the boy’s eyes snapped up to meet his at the word ‘punish’. _How very… interesting_.

Ciel gulped. _Punishment? What in the hell? Did I imagine that seductive note in his voice?_ “P-punishment? Er… I… suppose so, sir. What have you in mind?”

Ciel watched as Mr. Michaelis rose from his chair and sauntered around his desk to stand directly over him. The room seemed to grow noticeably darker.

Mr. Michaelis smirked wickedly. “Perhaps I ought to ask _you_ that, Ciel.” His voice was velvet, his eyes seemed to take on a more amaranthine hue. He crossed his arms and leaned back against his massive mahogany desk.

Ciel realized two things in that moment: 1.) he hadn’t realized until this moment how much taller than him Mr. Michaelis really was; he towered over him, and even though he was a dancer, he was still very muscular, and 2.) Mr. Michaelis called him _Ciel_. Mr. Michaelis _always_ called his students by their last names. Ciel really couldn’t help the twinge of arousal he felt in his abdomen, but damned if he didn’t try to ignore it.

It was as though Mr. Michaelis had stolen Ciel’s voice with the mere action of calling him “Ciel”, for he was finding it increasingly difficult to form words. He stood there, gaping, until Mr. Michaelis stood up and took a step forward.

“Is there a reason you are not answering my question, Phantomhive?”

Ciel reflexively stepped back, his leg hitting a student desk behind him. That damned blush crept up his face again, but this time he managed an answer. “S-sorry, Mr. Michaelis. I-- think I should be punished…”

“You said that already. _What_ would you like to do as your punishment? Or, shall I say, what would you like to be _done_?” Mr. Michaelis leaned in to whisper the last part, his lips barely brushing the outer shell of Ciel’s ear; his words came with a small puff of warm air.

Ciel shivered. “Mr. Michaelis…”

“Yes, Phantomhive?”

“I think… I think you should… spank me…”

“Speak up, boy.”

“I said I think you should spank me!” Ciel screwed his eyes shut as he said this, his face now completely flaming red. He felt a rush of cool air as Mr. Michaelis straightened up, and his eyes flew open.

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Bend over that desk, Phantomhive. Now, how many strikes do you think you deserve?” Mr. Michaelis asked as he pulled open a drawer on his desk and produced from it a sturdy-looking wooden ruler.

Ciel hadn’t moved; he was too shocked. In two quick strides Mr. Michaelis crossed over to him and swiftly spun him around, pinning him roughly to the desk. “When I ask you to do something, I expect it to be done well, and _quickly_ , Phantomhive.” His tone was deliciously cold.

“Yes, sir…” Ciel’s voice was barely above a whisper. He was glad Mr. Michaelis couldn’t see his face because he was flushed to his slate-grey roots. He was also glad that Mr. Michaelis couldn’t see the slight bulge that was forming at the crotch of his pants. He was beginning to feel very warm inside his thick sweater.

“Now, _how many_ times shall I smack you, boy? How about fifteen? One for every precious minute of my class time you wasted on sweets rather than the fruits that knowledge can bring…”

The bluenette waited in anticipation for the blows to come… but they never did. Instead…

“Phantomhive.”

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Pull down your pants. _Now_. How the devil am I to properly punish you if you don’t feel anything? And I expect you to count every one; if you miss, we will start over from the beginning and keep doing so until you count correctly. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Ciel quickly undid his pants and pushed them down past his hips, careful not to pull his underwear down with them (though he was tempted to). Goosebumps rose on his exposed ivory skin, and he shivered fractionally, both from the cold and from being so exposed in front of his teacher-crush.

Ciel never saw the first one coming. _SMACK!_ He almost forgot to count it, but remembered at the last second. “Nn-- One!”

 _CRACK!_ “Two!” _WHAP!_ “Three!” _SMACK!SMACK!SMACK!_ Ciel gasped. “Fourfivesix!”

“Ten… Eleven… Twelve!!!”

 _CRACK!CRACK!CRACK!_ “Thirteen!Fourteen!Fifteen!” Ciel cried, tears rolling down his cheeks because his battered bottom was already going numb with pain.

“There. That ought to teach you not to be late to my class, yes?” Ciel heard Mr. Michaelis put the dreaded ruler back.

“Y-yes, sir.” Ciel was trying (in vain, it seemed) to catch his breath. He was also trying to get his dick to stop straining against the front of his boxers, but that too was in vain.

“Pull up your pants, Phantomhive.”

Ciel was only too happy to oblige… until he felt the crotch of his jeans drag roughly against his growing erection. He couldn’t stifle the whine that slipped past his lips.

“Is something wrong, Phantomhive?” Mr. Michaelis asked sharply.

“No, sir.” Ciel zipped his jeans with much difficulty.

“Then turn around, boy.”

Ciel did as he was bid, attempting to hide the now obvious bulge at the front of his jeans by folding his hands unsuspiciously before it.

Mr. Michaelis crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of his sturdy desk, narrowing his eyes at Ciel’s posture. “Are you hiding something, Phantomhive?”

Ciel’s eyes widened. “No, sir.”

“Is that so? Hands at your sides where I can see them. Now.”

Gulping, face burning, Ciel moved his hands to his sides. _I’m dead._

Mr. Michaelis’ scorching gaze raked over his body. Ciel knew he was finished when he saw Mr. Michaelis smirk sharply and quirk an eyebrow. He had seen it.

As if the situation couldn’t get any more embarrassing, Ciel felt his dick harden _more_ under the attention of his teacher’s provocative gaze, tenting his pants most obscenely.

“How interesting, Phantomhive. Am I to understand that you _enjoy_ being humiliated by your _teacher_ of all people? Or is there some other explanation for your erection? If so, I would _love_ to hear it.”

Ciel hung his head in shame. “No, sir,” he mumbled.

Sebastian hummed. “Well, then. I was about to dismiss you to go home, but I can’t very well allow you to walk out of my classroom like that, now can I?

Ciel looked up curiously. “Please, no, sir.”

“I thought as much.”

Ciel was about to exhale a sigh of relief… until Mr. Michaelis said something that made the breath catch in his throat.

“Very well, Ciel. Take care of it now.”

Ciel choked. _WHAT?! I couldn’t have heard that correctly. He can’t possibly mean…_

“Could you clarify that, sir?”

An icy smile curled Mr. Michaelis’ lips. “What I meant was, jerk yourself off, right now. You shan’t be allowed to leave this classroom before you do.”

Ciel could only gape in disbelief as Mr. Michaelis then perched on the edge of his desk, produced an apple, seemingly out of nowhere, and proceeded to take a bite out of it, watching Ciel expectantly as he chewed.

“Well, go on. Don’t mind me,” Mr. Michaelis said, after he had swallowed. “Just pretend I’m not here. Do excuse me, though. The room seems to have gotten unbearably hot…”

The room was as cool as ever, but Ciel couldn’t look away as Mr. Michaelis rolled up both of his shirt sleeves to his elbows, loosened his tie, and then slowly undid the first three buttons of his black dress shirt, exposing his collarbones and a wide portion of his smooth porcelain chest. Evidently satisfied with the alterations, he leaned back, propped himself up with one arm, and crossed his legs, the foot of one resting upon the knee of the other.

Mr. Michaelis frowned at Ciel’s dumbfounded expression. “Need I punish you again for your slowness, Phantomhive?” He asked, the threat underlining his words darkly.

That snapped him out of it.

Ciel swallowed audibly. With trembling hands, he unzipped his jeans once more, almost whining again as the rough material rubbed against his crotch. He shoved the constricting material down to pool around his feet; his boxers followed soon after.

Finally free, his cock sprang up, pre-cum already beading at the tip. Ciel shivered as the cool air hit it, though the temperature did nothing to quell the fire raging in his abdomen.

He moved back to sit on the student desk behind him. Hardly daring to look at Mr. Michaelis, Ciel curled his fingers around his cock, exhaling a small sigh at his cool palm came in contact with the heated flesh.

Slowly at first, Ciel began to pump his erection, hips beginning to thrust in time with each stroke. His head fell back and his mouth gaped open, pleasure starting to cloud his vision. Striving to focus on _something_ to ground him, his eyes unwittingly turned to Mr. Michaelis.

Ciel just about choked at the sight before him. Mr. Michaelis’ ruby eyes bored into him as he ate the rosy apple in his hand. He moaned softly as Mr. Michaelis took a bite of the fruit, baring white, pointy canines. The sound the apple made as he took a bite was almost more lewd than the soft slapping sound of flesh against flesh. Ciel couldn’t tear his gaze away as Mr. Michaelis would pause once in a while to slowly lick a stray runnel of juice that had trickled down his arm, smirking salaciously as he caught the boy’s eye. Unconsciously, Ciel’s motions sped up as he watched Mr. Michaelis devour the apple.

Ciel sank his teeth into his lip in a futile effort to muffle the moans that were creeping up his throat. In all his years, he had never once thought that he would be jealous of a bloody piece of fruit. But, he realized aggravatedly, he _was_ . He imagined those pearly white _fangs_ sinking into his shoulder, _marking him_ , laying claim to his person. He imagined those strong hands opening his thighs and pinning him down, eradicating any hope of escape. He imagined that warm mouth swallowing his cock, wet pink tongue teasing the slit, soft, perfect lips starting to puff as he wickedly pistoned his hips harder and faster, and faster and harder until---

“SEBASTIAN!”

White liquid spurted all over the tiles as wave after wave of pleasure overtook Ciel’s slight frame. He continued to stroke himself through his orgasm, back arching in delight.

Spent, he could do little more than wait for his breathing to slow, eyes lidded as he basked in the soothing afterglow.


End file.
